In His Capable Hands
by Aunt Kathy
Summary: Co-written with (Mrs.) Singing Violin. J/C. Follows on from 'Scientific Method.' Janeway struggles to deal with the effects of the dopamine in her system and must rely heavily on Chakotay to help her weather them...
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimers: I don't own Trek, Voyager, Janeway, Chakotay or the bucket(s) that Janeway has been keeping in the ready room recently in case of… emergencies. Although it could be argued that it was actually me who put the bucket(s) there in the first place…

Author's Note: If you haven't watched the episode 'Scientific Method' (Star Trek: Voyager, Season 4 Episode 7) you might struggle to understand what is happening at the beginning of this story, but don't worry. If you are a trekker, like myself, you will probably already know the episode and perhaps even have a few of your favorite lines memorized (I'm afraid that I have) but, if you are not a trekker, there is enough detail in the opening chapter to give a brief summary of the episode in question.

This story was conceived, co-authored, edited and betaed by the beautiful and unequaled talents of Dr. Singing Violin. However, she let me write and post it because she thought it was about time that I gave Janeway some 'medical' comfort from Chakotay. Although, recently, I've been the one needing the comfort myself... *sneezes!*

I hope you enjoy reading this almost half as much as I have enjoyed writing it (it's kept me semi-sane recently), and I hope you'll let me know what you think. :)

* * *

Given that it was only the beginning of the beta shift, the corridors of the _USS Voyager_ were far quieter than usual. Normally, there would be crew members running through them because they were late for their duty shifts, or because they had been called away from sleep and leisure activities to their battle stations. Even on an uneventful day, there would have been far more life in the hallways of the ship as people went about their routines. But today was different: the corridors were empty, the holodecks abandoned, the mess hall quiet.

On Deck Five, and more specifically, the area in and around Sickbay, it was a different story entirely. Just past the automatic doors, the small on-board infirmary lay in chaos. Empty hyposprays that had previously carried a variety of painkillers, anti-coagulants, stimulants, sedatives, and other drugs, lay strewn across any surface that was not taken up by the presence of a debilitated crewman. The EMH was run off his holographic feet as he tried, with the help of Seven of Nine, Lieutenant Tom Paris, and Ensign Harry Kim, to treat the eighteen crewmembers that were currently lying on, sitting on and leaning against the biobeds in Sickbay.

Thankfully, none of the injuries and ailments that they had come across in the crew members had been life-threatening. Approximately two hours ago, the Doctor had issued a ship-wide announcement ordering all crew to be scanned for injuries immediately. A group of twelve off-duty volunteers had worked their way through those crewmen who had already been restricted to their quarters while others oversaw the scanning of every on-duty member of the crew. Those with serious conditions had been beamed directly to Sickbay, where the two members of the crew that were qualified to perform more complicated medical procedures, namely the Doctor and the ship's chief pilot Tom Paris, had performed surgery on those in the most critical conditions. There had only been one death caused by the recent events on the small ship, a fact which brought little comfort to the EMH. However, his programming left little room for reflection on such matters when he had a room full of injured crew to heal.

_Thank heavens for small mercies_, his newly-installed subroutine echoed through his head. This particular addition to his program allowed him to 'hear' his thoughts rather than just reach a conclusion via the pre-programmed equations that compiled his 'thought' processes. He administered the hypospray of digitoxyline in his hand into the carotid artery of Ensign Samantha Wildman and told her to return to and remain in her quarters. Swiftly and efficiently, he moved on to the next patient in the queue.

The _Voyager_ crew had been violated by a group of alien 'medical researchers' who had deemed them the perfect test subjects for a series of experiments that, they had asserted, may have enabled them to further their understanding of the various physiologies of Alpha Quadrant species and perhaps bring light to some as-yet unseen cures for their own people's ailments. However, the experiments that were supposed to be kept secret from the Starfleet crew were revealed when the Doctor and Chief Engineer B'Elanna Torres discovered what, under closer inspection, turned out to be mechanical genetic markers embedded within DNA strands of the crew. Eventually, after enlisting the aid of Seven of Nine, the nature of the aliens' presence had been revealed, and upon realizing the extent to which the 'scientists' had been prepared to go and witnessing - and being powerless to stop - the death of her crewmember, the ship's captain snapped. It had been clear to the entire bridge crew that Janeway had not been thinking clearly when she drove the ship at full impulse power into a pair of binary pulsars, each with more than enough potential to severely damage the ship, and as a pair, with enough power to rip it bulkhead from bulkhead. It had been a miracle that the crew had come out the other side alive, and the shock of Janeway's reckless behavior subsided relatively rapidly as it became clear that her gamble had paid off and the full scale of the medical problems caused by the 'experiments' began to surface.

Sickbay had been brimming with patients ever since, and the Doctor made a note to check up on the captain as soon as he was able: she had already commed him and insisted that she be treated last.

_Typical_, his subroutine echoed as he picked up his medical tricorder and moved on to the next member of the crew.


	2. Chapter 2

For disclaimers and Author's Notes, see Chapter 1. Enjoy. :)

* * *

The bridge had also fallen victim to the silence that befell the rest of the ship: the only interruptions to the quiet were the beeping of the ship's consoles and the occasional cough from Crewman Naida at the Ops station, whose respiratory system was still recovering from the slow decrease in lung capacity he had undergone.

Both command chairs were empty, the two most senior officers having succumbed to the effects of the experiments conducted on them. Commander Chakotay had only just been released from Sickbay with all signs of the prematurely-aged and frail man gone; Captain Kathryn Janeway had retreated to her ready room.

She stood at the viewport with her back to the door, her fingers massaging her throbbing temples as she rode out the migraine she had suffered for the past four days. Part of her knew that she should be on the bridge, but she currently didn't trust herself to be objective, not with her elevated dopamine levels, and certainly not after the death of Crewman Davies.

Chakotay practically jumped into the turbolift, glad to be in full command of his body once more. As the lift slowly rose to take him to the bridge, his mind wandered to the captain, his concern for her evident on his handsome features. He had heard about her recent behavior: physically assaulting the prisoner as well as putting the ship and crew in extreme danger. _That's not like the Kathryn I know. Something's wrong, especially since she completely refused to have the Doctor treat her. Normally she would grin and bear a medical examination...especially under these types of conditions…_

He had to check on her before he relieved Tuvok.

The lift drew to a stop and he stepped out, not even needing to look around the bridge to ascertain where his C.O. was, and headed straight for the ready room.

Tuvok only just caught the order of, "As you were," as the ship's first officer passed the tactical station and chimed for admittance to the room that contained the captain.

"Come in!" shouted Janeway from the other side, then winced as a sharp jolt of pain shot through her cranium. She ran the tips of her fingers along her hairline, trying to ease the pain slightly as Chakotay walked in.

"Captain." He regarded her closely, but given that she was standing on the elevated level of the ready room and her gaze seemed to be fixed on the streaking stars that could be seen through the viewport, he would have to go by her posture. She stood stiffly, almost as if her stance was locked in place, her back and shoulders ramrod straight. The perfect picture of authority and command.

"Hello, Commander," she replied courteously, although there was a definite edge to her voice.

He decided that, given her unwillingness to turn around and face him, the direct approach might be best in the current situation: given her apparent condition, anything done to aggravate her current state would not be in anybody's best interests.

"Seven of Nine assures me that all the aliens have left the ship." He waited a moment in case she wanted to comment. When she didn't, he simply continued, "And most of the crew are recovering or are still being treated by the Doctor. He is checking over all the other patients to ensure that they recover."

"How many of the crew were subjected to these… tests?" The final word was uttered with disgust, and Chakotay could tell just how much this entire situation had affected her.

"So far the doctor has counted 87, but that number is still rising."

"I take it that there were some of the crew that weren't subjected to these…" she swallowed, "mutilations at all."

"Yes." Chakotay kept his tone professional, knowing that right now she wanted to retain control over the situation. To help her do that, she needed her first officer - not her friend. "Tuvok and Harry seem to have escaped relatively unscathed, but there's no telling what they might have been forced to undergo if the 'experiments' had been allowed to continue."

She shook her head lightly so as not to aggravate her headache any further. _I can't believe this has happened._ Starfleet had done its best to prepare her for most types of situations, but there wasn't a right answer for this one. She could deal with head-on confrontations like the Borg or the Kazon; commanding from the bridge at a time like that was almost second nature to her, but facing such a calculated violation of her crew, herself included? That was far more difficult to manage than a fire fight.

"I still don't understand how a technically advanced race could see it as acceptable to make others suffer in such a way." She clenched her jaw and raised her head to look at the top of the viewport as she began to feel a little queasy, a sensation that had too often begun to accompany the headaches that had been plaguing her over the last few days.

"We have to remember that humans have conducted experiments of a similar nature in the past. Many animals were tested on for various reasons, most notably in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries, when animal testing continued to thrive despite many public protests against it. The tests were relatively broad, ranging from searching for elusive cures to testing common cosmetics-" he stopped, noticing a slight change in her stance. "Are you all right, Captain?"

"I'm fine," she forced through clenched teeth as she felt the intermittent urge to regurgitate subside slightly.

"Have you been to see the Doctor yet?" She could hear him take a step towards her and noted the worried tone of his voice, but she didn't want him to be concerned for her right now.

"No." Kathryn felt the nausea dissipate further and turned to face him, as she was now sure that her command mask was back in place. "And I'm not going to until he has seen every other affected member of my crew, and I am assured that each of them will recover from this… ordeal."

"Are you sure you don't need to go to Sickbay now?" She could see that he didn't believe her when she had said she was fine. She had to hope that he would leave soon so she could be once again left with her thoughts.

"I could escort you-"

"That won't be necessary, Commander," Kathryn interrupted. She tried to ignore the queasiness as it hit her again, liquid pooling around her tongue as she began to salivate: her body was preparing itself for what was to come.

She raised the back of her hand to her mouth and swallowed, regretting doing so the instant her saliva hit her stomach, which pitched.

"But there is one thing that you could do for me." Her words were rushed, and Chakotay struggled to catch them as they sounded muffled from behind her knuckles.

"Yes?"

"Hand me the bucket under my desk." She felt her stomach begin to lurch as he hesitated.

"Captain?"

"Please, Chakotay." Her tone was urgent and Chakotay took the two steps to the desk, reached underneath it and extracted the black, plastic container in question.

Chakotay handed her the bucket and watched as she proceeded to sit down on the sofa, take a deep breath, and place the bucket onto her knees before violently expelling the contents of her stomach into it.

"Kathryn!" She felt his warm hands on her, one placed on her back, the other covering her left hand that rested on the rim of the bucket in front of her as she swayed, steadying it to ensure that the viscous, foul-smelling liquid inside did not spill.

She felt the muscles around her stomach contract again, squeezing her last cup of coffee out of her system and into the bucket in front to her.

Chakotay rubbed his right hand up and down her back as she continued to heave, hoping to convey some type of comfort to her. Kathryn vomited again, now bent double with the violent convulsions racking her petite frame.

As the spasms subsided, she spat into the bucket, wanting to remove the bitter taste of hydrochloric acid and half-digested coffee from her mouth. She spat again, but the aftertaste lingered and she closed her eyes as she leaned back against Chakotay's strong arm.

"Thanks," she said weakly as she tried to catch her breath.

"Are you sure you don't want to go to Sickbay, Kathryn? I bet the Doctor could give you something for the nausea."

She started to shake her head, but then stopped as it made her head spin and her stomach turn. "Not until everyone else is treated." There was a pause as Kathryn fought a second wave of nausea, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. "I'll live."

Kathryn put the bucket on the ground and tried to stand up, to move away from him and regain control, but was unsteady on her feet and lost her balance. Chakotay barely caught her as she fell into him, and they both felt her abdomen tighten as her stomach pitched again.

With his help, she barely made it to the bucket in time: half-sitting, half-lying on the floor in front of the couch.

He steadied her as she vomited again, this round of spasms bringing up bile instead of half-digested food and coffee: her stomach was already empty.

Janeway breathed deeply as she tried to suppress the tremors that ran up her back and down her arms, willing the room around her to stop spinning as Chakotay supported her.

"You won't live if you keep that up."

She smiled weakly, her head down as she stayed close to the bucket as a precaution.

"I just hope that's the worst of it. I hope I'm not going to be vomiting for days."

"I take it that this is an aftereffect of whatever the aliens did to you."

Kathryn lifted her head slightly so that he could see her nod and better hear her response. "Yes, apparently this is what happens if you increase the dopamine levels in a human dramatically. Nausea and insomnia. The perfect recipe for a grouchy commanding officer."

He kept his hand on her back in sympathy, rubbing soft circles over her shoulder blades and ribs, trying to calm her breathing down to a steady rhythm. "I just wish there was something else I could do to help."

Kathryn looked into the kind eyes of her first officer. She was glad that, right now, he of all people was there for her. If anybody else had walked in to give her the Doctor's report she knew that they wouldn't have acted so sympathetically, and most likely she would have been mortified to have them see her like this.

"Chakotay, I think, under the circumstances, you're doing just fine."

Their eyes locked, irises of cold blue becoming lost in ones of warm chocolate brown. She sighed, the sharp smell of sour vomit filling her nose, breaking the moment between them as she turned to the bucket to retch again. Chakotay reached over to secure the strands of her auburn hair that had come loose back in place. When her convulsions became more violent, he placed both of his strong hands on her shoulders, keeping her up while her body shuddered and jerked uncontrollably.

Eventually she calmed again, her breathing labored and her eyes streaming. She couldn't take much more of this. Kathryn felt horrific. She might not have felt nauseated anymore, but her headache was still there and worse than ever, the violent dry heaving had exhausted her, and on top of that she was now beginning to feel cold. She had expected this as another result of her increased dopamine levels and felt herself begin to tremble slightly, hoping that Chakotay wouldn't notice. He did. That man always seemed to notice when she was in pain.

He helped her into a sitting position, and she leaned back against his broad chest, knowing that otherwise she would have no hope of staying upright.

"If you won't let me take you to Sickbay, at least let me take you to your quarters so you can have a rest."

Part of her knew that this would be a good idea, but she was sure she had commanded in far worse conditions than this. "Commander, I can hardly just up and leave in the middle of my shift!"

Her sudden indignation made Chakotay consider the fact that her moods would be subject to her increased hormone levels. He made a note to disregard any decisions or statements she made that could be detrimental to her health- no matter what she thought of him afterwards.

She sensed his resolve and decided to aim for a compromise.

"I will go to my quarters," Chakotay frowned and looked down at her, trying to read her expression. _She would never give in that easily… _"once my shift is over."

_Ah, there's my Kathryn._

"No, Kathryn. Now." He knew that her shift only had another two hours to go, but she needed to be somewhere other than her ready room right now- she couldn't be the captain of a starship in this condition.

"Is that an order?" Her tone was dangerously low as she leaned back to get a better view of his features, turning so she could see him fully.

"Do I have to get the Doctor to relieve you of duty? Because if I do, then, yes, Kathryn. It is an order."

She gaped at him, searching his face for any sign that he might concede if she were to put him under any further pressure, but her gaze was met only with hard resistance.

Chakotay, sensing her mind at work to come up with an argument, leaned her back on the sofa and gingerly picked up the half-full bucket and recycled it. Once done, he replicated a new bucket and placed it under her desk where he had found the first one. _Previous one_, he mentally corrected himself, wondering vaguely how many she had gone through before deciding to keep one handy.

Their eyes met again, and Kathryn's face hardened as she again searched him for any sign that he had softened in his resolve, but found none. She sighed quietly, realizing that he wasn't going to acquiesce, and feeling somewhat frustrated with herself, knowing at least part of his determination was due to her apparent weakness, which she told herself she ought to have been able to hide, even from him.

"Fine." Chakotay tried not to smile as he noticed how much she sounded like Naomi giving in to Sam after a fight. "I'll go to my quarters."

Kathryn attempted once more to stand, but she was still weakened by her recent retching and her knees buckled, causing her to fall once more into Chakotay, who had seen this coming and was already up and ready to catch her. He helped her to her feet, and she began to pull away from him, but he wouldn't let her, instead gathering her to him and lifting her into his arms.


	3. Chapter 3

For disclaimers and Author's Notes, see Chapter 1. Enjoy. :)

* * *

"Comman-," she squeaked. _Pull yourself together, woman! Starfleet captains do not squeak._

She cleared her throat and started again.

"Commander, put me down!"

"No." His voice was perfectly calm as he carried her away from the upper levels and started down the steps.

"Commander, I demand that you put me down this instant!" Looking down, he saw that she had combined her most authoritative tone with her ten-force glare, but he wouldn't let that sway him: right now her well-being was paramount.

"No." He remained calm as she slapped him - not at all lightly - on the arm.

"Chakotay, unhand me!" She tried to wriggle free, but that only served to make her feel ill again. _The last thing I need is to throw up on my first officer._

But her stomach pitched.

_Too late_, she thought as dregs of half-digested coffee and discarded stomach lining rose up her esophagus. She clamped her right hand tightly over her mouth, feeling it fill with the chokingly caustic liquid, the taste of it on her tongue somehow even more overpowering than before.

Kathryn's cheeks were fit to burst with the pressure of her stomach contents, and she heaved again at the sensation, more vomit rising up her throat and into her mouth. She kept her lips squeezed shut in the hope of containing the second surge, but had gravely underestimated the amount of spew she still contained, and a small amount of it escaped part her lips and leaked out between her fingers, spattering onto Chakotay's uniform and dripping onto her own.

Chakotay had felt her heave again, and quickly but gently dropped her on the floor by her desk, propping her against it while he went to retrieve the bucket again.

Kathryn tried to concentrate on re-doubling her focus to seal her lips, knowing that there were currently two options open to her. _Either I let this out and cover the carpet, leaving some poor ensign to clean it up, or I-._

She closed her eyes at the thought of the second option. _So, which is it to be? Up and out or down again?_

After Chakotay reached under the table, he glanced over at the captain, only to see Kathryn's entire body tense with the effort of reversing the flow of the acid in her mouth.

_Surely she's not going to..._ He saw her cheeks retract, shrinking in size as her throat worked beneath her skin and she re-ingested the bitter bile that had risen up. He looked away momentarily, feeling his own stomach turn at the thought of forcing down a mouthful of coffee and hydrochloric acid cocktail.

He brought the clean bucket over and placed it on the floor in front of her, just in time as the few seconds her swallowing had bought them came to an end. The moment the liquid hit her stomach, she convulsed again and expelled it into the bucket. Just as he had done before, Chakotay placed one hand on her arm and the other on her back, rubbing soothingly slow circles into her skin through her uniform.

In silence, they waited for her breathing to return to normal. When it did, she lifted her head, a small droplet of sweat running down her temple, over her cheek, and into her collar.

"I see I managed to convince you to put me down." She spat into the bucket once more and tried to stand again, but her legs were too weak and gave way beneath her. Chakotay caught her once more and eased her back onto the floor, leaning her against her desk again as he took the tricorder from the medkit in the room.

"If you hadn't wriggled so hard, you might not be this weak, Kathryn." Unlike hers, the tone of his voice held no hint of humor.

"How bad is it, Chakotay?" she asked, searching his eyes for reassurance that her condition was not life-threatening. _I'm miserable enough as it is; I can't deal with the Doctor's lectures right now, but if this is worse than I thought, Chakotay won't let me weasel out of Sickbay_. She took a deep breath. "And give me the truth. I've come to expect no less from you."

"Elevated blood pressure due to your dopamine levels," he read off the instrument in his hands.

"That's to be expected." There was a pause before she continued, while Chakotay stood to recycle the second bucket. She knew what he was thinking, and she needed to put those fears to rest, right now, if she wanted to keep her condition hidden from any other crewmembers. _Will Chakotay even respect me in the morning?_ "But it's hardly cause to go to Sickbay, Chakotay."

"Kathryn-"

"No, Chakotay." She decided to concede the battle in order to win the war. "You can escort me to my quarters, as I'm sure you're about to suggest, but I am _not_ going to Sickbay." _It's bad enough having you see me like this, but a bunch of suffering crewmen and a makeshift medical staff?_

"Aye, Captain."

"But..." she swallowed her pride and realized she might as well admit what he had already seen plenty of evidence of, "I'll need your help getting there." They both knew that her knees would most likely fail her again if she tried to stand without his support. It killed her to ask for so much help...to ask _him_ for so much help...but if there was one thing she had learned from Tuvok over the years, it was not to fight logic to protect one's feelings. _And he would also remind me that logic would dictate that I'm not going to be able to walk unaided if I can't even stand!_

"Do you think you can manage without the bucket for a while?" Chakotay asked kindly as he returned from recycling the second batch of vomit.

"I hope so." _I'm pretty certain that I don't have anything left in my digestive system at all, in fact. _She couldn't quite meet his gaze.

"All right, then." Chakotay stood and bent over, helping her up slowly. He placed one arm around her waist and the other behind her knees. Kathryn put both her arms around his neck as he lifted her up again. "Now, don't wriggle."

Kathryn grinned weakly at the hint of humor in his voice. "Only if you promise not to be too rough with me."

Chakotay had to smile at that as he headed for the exit to the corridor. If Kathryn wasn't going to Sickbay because she didn't want the crew to see her in her current state, then she was certainly not going to want to have him carry her out in front of the bridge staff. Thankfully, he knew that the corridors were mostly empty, and he doubted that they would encounter any other crewmen: her quarters weren't far from the turbolift exit.


	4. Chapter 4

For disclaimers and Author's Notes, see Chapter 1. Credit for the amazing parts of this chapter goes to (Mrs.) Singing Violin. Enjoy. :)

* * *

"Deck Three," Chakotay ordered as he let Kathryn stand upright in the turbolift. He knew that she would want to stand while they were stationary, but he kept one arm around her waist to make sure she didn't fall, noting silently how much she was trembling.

"Chakotay, I'm not sure if this is completely necessary." _Although your arm is nice and warm, and I'm so cold._

"You never know, Captain. You might try to escape," Chakotay teased. Kathryn could see the wide, dimpled grin she knew so well spread across his features and let out a bark of laughter.

"I assure you, Commander, I'm not planning on slipping away anytime soon." _Slipping away...oh God..._

Chakotay watched as her face fell and the mood in the small metal capsule sobered. After a few seconds, he realized she was fighting tears.

Kathryn clenched her jaw and gritted her teeth in an effort to keep her emotions under control, hoping that Chakotay wouldn't notice. But he noticed everything. He always did.

"Computer, halt turbolift," the commander ordered. She felt him turn her so he could see her face more clearly, but she kept her gaze on the ground, fighting the waves of exhaustion and emotion that were rolling over her.

Kathryn did everything in her power to keep her mind focused, clear. To keep her face neutral. She needed to stay strong. She was the captain, and it was her duty to remain strong for her crew.

_My duty… just like it's my duty to protect them from harm. To keep them safe._

And that was something she had failed to do with Davies. The young woman's face flashed before her vision, ruptured blood vessels standing out just below her greying skin as the life within her died…

_Another one that 'slipped away'…_

"Kathryn?" Her face crumpled as a sob emanated from her throat.

He pulled her to him, glad that he had stopped the 'lift. She would have hated it if any other crewmember had seen her this vulnerable. _I'm sure she hates it that I'm seeing her this vulnerable_. _She probably thinks I won't respect her in the morning._ Seeing her like this, however, made him realize that he respected her even more now, knowing how much she usually kept from him, from everyone. How strong she had to be to be able to withstand everything she had been through, that she still went through, alone. He knew the dopamine had weakened her to the point where she couldn't hide any longer. It broke his heart to know that letting him see her like this wasn't by choice: nevertheless, he was grateful to be able to look after her now. Perhaps, after this, she would finally realize that it wasn't so bad to be taken care of once in a while, that it didn't have to affect her authority. _Or not..._

She tried hard to keep her sobs quiet, but he still heard them as she shook against his shoulder, crying into the fabric of his uniform. Chakotay kept his arms around her, knowing that she needed to let out all the built-up pressures. The last several weeks had been tough, but for her far more than for anyone else on board. He held her in silence as she cried, feeling privileged to be the one to do so.

As she wept, Kathryn's shaking became more pronounced and he gathered her closer, wrapping his arms tightly around her and rubbing her back, hoping to infuse her with as much warmth as he could.

_Oh, God. I'm so sorry… I'm so sorry, Chakotay… I wish it had been different… that I'd been able to save her…_

She shuddered again, and Chakotay increased the pressure on her back, only stopping when he heard her mumble something into his shoulder.

"Kathryn?" He fought to keep his composure as he pulled back slightly in order to see her face, her eyelids red and raw, dark circles under her eyes obvious as the tears ran down her cheeks, washing away the makeup she had clearly used to attempt to hide the evidence of her fatigue.

"I'm so sorry…" He could barely hear her- her voice was merely a breath that lingered in the air between them.

"You have nothing to apologize for, Kathryn. None of this is your fault. You can't help this-"

She sobbed again, leaning back against his shoulder as he held her firmly to him. He felt her arms lift on either side of him, enveloping his waist weakly as she tried to return his hug. The fragility of the gesture brought a lump to his throat.

"It _is_ my fault, Chakotay…" her voice was slightly stronger as she muttered into his shoulder.

"Kathryn-"

"It's my fault she's dead- I could have… I _should_ have been more resolute from the beginning. As soon as Seven warned us about the alien presence, I should have done something to get them off the ship… started the self-destruct sequence or-"

"Kathryn, you know as well as I do that you had no other choice. Jazzmyn Davies' death," Kathryn sobbed again, more loudly at the sound of the young woman's name, "was not your fault. You have to know that. You tried to save her. You did everything you could to keep her alive, administered CPR-"

She pulled back slightly, and he held her upper arms as she looked up at him, not hiding anything from him now- what was the point? If he was going to lose confidence in her command ability, it had happened already. She'd already lost. And she hadn't the strength to fight anymore.

"None of that would have been necessary if I'd acted on my instincts earlier. If I had put an end to these… _barbaric…'experiments'_-"

"You have to stop thinking like that, Kathryn. The Doctor's report was perfectly clear where Jazzmyn's condition was concerned. She suffered an aortic rupture from prolonged hypertension. The induction of high blood pressure had reached critical hours before she died. There was nothing that anyone could have done to save her. Not you or the Doctor."

_Not after I'd already failed to derive what was happening and put an end to it before her condition became critical. _Kathryn swallowed as she searched his face for judgment or blame, and found only kindness and concern. _You may be able to forgive me, Chakotay, but eventually I'm going to fail you too. _

"I… I…" she didn't know what to say, which was a situation she was rarely in because it made her uncomfortable. Then she realized something: _Chakotay may not have lost confidence in my command abilities, but I have.__  
_

"Kathryn, what you're feeling is completely normal, but you have to let it go. It will only destroy you otherwise."

She wanted to look down as he spoke, his words triggering memories of her sister trying to coax her out of bed after the deaths of her father and Justin. But she couldn't. She felt locked in his gaze and suddenly realized how much he must care for her: not as his captain, but as his friend. He didn't want her to suffer, no matter how much she deserved it.

But Phoebe had been right years ago: Kathryn hadn't been in control of that mission, and there was absolutely nothing she could have done differently to save the two dearest men to her at the time. The best she could do was to move past it and maybe, someday, have the chance to save someone else. 'You're gonna get up, you're gonna face life!' had been her sister's exact words. She had dragged her older sister out of bed and forced her back into the real world. The memory of Phoebe's face, daring to challenge her, made her smile weakly and another tear ran down her wet cheek.

But now...now she _was_ in control. She was the captain, and she'd failed her crew. She'd allowed them to become lab rats, allowed them to suffer and one of them to die, and it was only going to happen again, each time she made a mistake. Each time she wasn't good enough. As long as she remained captain of _Voyager_, they were all in danger...and one day, they would all end up like Davies...

And then, through the fog of fear pervading her entire being, a tiny ray of hope penetrated the darkness in the form of her first officer's concern.

"What is it?" he asked gently.

_If I could have done something differently, I would have_, she realized suddenly. And then she realized something else: ordinarily, she would have consulted Chakotay, but he had been in Sickbay, suffering from his own affliction; he wasn't there to help. And before he'd fallen victim, he'd tried, in his unassuming way: _"Captain, am I boring you?"_ he'd asked her, and instead of telling him what was wrong, she'd just escaped as quickly as possible, leaving the pulsars 'in his capable hands.' But now that she couldn't escape, he was there. He was there to help her with anything she needed, from holding her bucket to absolving her guilt. _Maybe, with his help, I can still captain this ship after all._ She smiled again, but this time more strongly. "Chakotay, I'm lucky to be able to rely on you. I hope you know how much I appreciate it."

He nodded at her, knowing she would do the same for him...for any member of her crew...in a heartbeat_. _"You'd do the same for me," he pointed out, not realizing that she was referring to more than holding her hair as she was sick._  
_

They stayed there for a moment, Kathryn's tears slowing as she nodded feebly.

She swallowed again, taking a deep breath as she fought for some semblance of composure. _If it's only because of Chakotay that I'm able to help this crew, then maybe things would be better if our positions were reversed. Maybe I should be helping him instead of the other way around._

"Chakotay…" She wanted to ask him if he would still be willing to let her serve under him, as he'd suggested shortly after he'd agreed to be her first officer. She wanted to let him take over for once, to not be the responsible one anymore, to not have to worry that any more of the crew would perish because of her mistakes. But there was something else she needed to deal with first: she could feel the gnawing sensation in her belly as the acid built up again in her stomach, and realized that if she didn't get to her destination soon, she just might soil the turbolift, and she really didn't feel like explaining that to the crewman who had to clean it up, especially right before breaking the news that Chakotay was the new captain...

"Yes?"

"How quickly can you get me to my quarters?" Her tone was firmer than it had been previously, but still not as adamant as that of the captain.

"That depends. Are you going to wriggle?" She softened again. _Oh, Chakotay. You always know how to make me smile, don't you?_

"No." _But I need to get there before this gets any worse, Chakotay._

"Computer, resume turbolift."

He watched as she raised shaking fingers to wipe at the tears clinging to her lashes. _For the crew,_ he thought. _She would do almost anything to appear strong for them._

The 'lift stopped and Chakotay gently lifted her up again, one arm under her knees, and the other around her upper back.

It struck him just how small she seemed to be right now. Usually she fought that, too, but somehow, at this moment, she was content to be small, to be comforted. And that's when he realized that there was something seriously wrong, beyond the obvious._  
_

He suppressed a sad smile as the doors slid open and he carried her out. He felt her tense slightly as they entered the corridor. _She's afraid someone will see us._

"Relax, Kathryn," he whispered into her ear. "I've got you."

She eased into his hold once more and turned her face to his arm again, hiding a solitary tear from him as it rolled down her left cheek and into her collar. _I know you do, Chakotay…_


	5. Chapter 5

For disclaimers and Author's Notes, see Chapter 1. Enjoy. :)

* * *

As he had predicted, they didn't encounter anyone between leaving the turbolift and reaching Kathryn's quarters. Chakotay was glad about this small fact; he was more than a little worried about the captain by this point and knew that being seen by other members of the crew in her current state would only add to her difficulties.

Even before her tears in the turbolift, he could tell she was exhausted, as anyone would be after being so ill. He knew she would probably prefer to clean up immediately, but did not think it safe for her to do so alone. However, he was sure she would be uncomfortable with his helping her with something so intimate. Thus, he opted to guide her towards rest; once she had recovered, she would be able to take care of herself. Chakotay carried her directly into the bedroom and carefully placed her on the bed, propping three pillows behind her to keep her torso up.

He knelt down at the foot of the bed and took off her shoes, knowing too well how her feet ached after a long day: she had complained lightly on occasion and as this was Kathryn, a small complaint about her own well-being would equal a trip to Sickbay for most people. As the captain, she rarely took the chance to sit, and while the boots were designed to be as comfortable as possible, they weren't designed to be stood in for double and triple shifts; Kathryn Janeway, however, never considered non-regulation footwear when she was on duty, and she'd been on duty most of the last four days. He placed the shoes by the door, out of the way in case she had to rush to the bathroom.

Chakotay stood again as Kathryn plucked her commbadge from her uniform and placed in on the nightstand to her left. She then reached up to take the pips from her collar, feeling a burden lifting slightly as she removed each one individually. Something had to change. And it had to change fast before the next incident, the next crisis in which she wasn't so 'lucky.'

The commander had reservations about leaving Kathryn alone right now, but he couldn't think of a pretense for staying that wouldn't make her more uncomfortable than she was already. "Try to get some sleep. Call me if you need anything. I'll be right next door, okay? The Doctor told me to stay on light duty as much as possible over the next few days, so I'm sure he won't mind my staying away from the bridge for a while, and besides, it'll give me a chance to go over the-"

She caught his left arm as he turned to leave. _I need to resolve this now, so I can be assured that the crew will be okay next time._

"Chakotay-"

He looked at her expectantly with kind eyes. Kathryn was sorely tempted to look away, but knew that she owed this to their relationship, to look him in the eye as she said the following: "I can't do this anymore."

"Kathryn," Chakotay cautioned sternly. Although Chakotay suspected that she was most likely not talking about the illness, he needed to make sure that his suspicions were correct. He wasn't about to trust or act on anything she was going to say while her judgment was impaired without giving it a second thought. As he continued, he was careful to keep any trace of sympathy out of his voice and his facial expression, knowing full well that it would just make the situation even worse. "I'm going to be right here if you need me, just shout and I'll-"

"That's not what I meant, Chakotay. I don't see any way that I can continue as captain of _Voyager_. Not like this."

He kept his face impassive, knowing that any reaction he exhibited, especially disappointment, would not be taken as intended. He knew that there was no way that Kathryn was thinking clearly, not with the amount of residual dopamine that was still present in her system.

She slowly and carefully held out her right hand, palm down, still fisted around the four small pips. He took it in his own, holding it firmly as she continued. Kathryn struggled slightly against the hold on her hand and opened her fingers, depositing the flat circles of metal into his palm. Her determination faltered slightly as she observed a hint of sadness that overtook his expression. Kathryn knew that Chakotay must have been trying to hide his reaction to her news, although whether that subverted reaction was anger or consideration, she could not tell. She remembered that at one point, he'd asked if she would have served under him, and she'd declined to answer, but hoped now that the offer was still open. "While I would be happy to serve as your first officer, I'm going to request that I be given a lower rank. Maybe B'Elanna could make some use of me in engineering or I could be returned to the position of a science officer. I don't think I'm cut out to deal with so much responsibility, so much power over the lives on board this ship."

_No, Kathryn, you're not able to cope with the responsibility right now, because you are currently not completely yourself. But I'm not about to let you throw away something so dear and therefore fitting to you as the captain's chair that easily. You're not thinking with a clear head right now, and I know you're probably going to hate me for saying this, but-_ "Kathryn, I'm not going to have this conversation with you right now."

_Oh God. He's not going to accept my resignation. He's going to make me…let me…kill them all. Why doesn't he want to save them? Why does he only want to take care of me? I don't deserve it…I can't protect him. I never could…he's always protecting me, and if I were out of the way, then he could protect them…but he doesn't want to…why doesn't he want to? Doesn't he want to get them home? We'll never get home…not with me as captain…how can I defend a ship full of innocent people when I can't even keep my coffee down? Oh God…I'm going to be sick again…_

She was vaguely aware of a sensation of needing to belch, and instinctively raised her hands to her mouth. As the gas rose up her esophagus, she gagged, violently expelling air as she heaved.

It didn't stop.

She could feel her body betraying her, and that she had no control over it. Frightened more than she could remember being in her entire life, she willed herself to ride it out, hoping that it would end eventually.

Again and again, she bent double with the effort of vomiting nothing. Over and over, until her throat was raw, tears stung her eyes, and she thought she would die, right there and then.

_If I die, he'll _have_ to take over. He won't get a choice. Oh God…is this going to stop?_

Suddenly, although it didn't seem possible, she heaved even harder, and then breath came raggedly into her lungs, relief washing over her as the spasms suddenly ceased. Then she realized there was something on her palms...

_My hands are wet. Sticky, slimy._

She stared blankly at the mess she was cupping, hardly noticing Chakotay's hand around her waist as he led her to her bathroom.

He guided her to the sink, where he gently brought her arms into the stream of water, and she watched her digestive juices flow off her hands and down the drain. She wished it would be so easy to wash away the guilt, the pain of knowing how much these people had suffered, and would continue to suffer at her behest.

"Kathryn." Warm tones were the first thing she noticed. She felt his hands on her back again, assuming that he must have turned her away from the sink slightly as she blinked through her tears and gazed into kind eyes.

Chakotay knew that for Kathryn Janeway, actions had always spoken louder than words, so he simply held her to him for a moment. He knew that what distressed her most about the situation was most likely the fact that she was not in control: not of her own body and not of her own thoughts, and for someone who had made a living exercising control over most aspects of her life, this had to be tough.

A few moments later, when he felt she'd calmed down considerably, he let her go, taking the opportunity to wet a washcloth and wipe her face. He started with the edges of her mouth, cleaning them of the remnants of her illness, then folded the cloth over and moved upwards, smoothing away her tear tracks and removing the vestiges of her spoiled make-up. He couldn't help lingering on her forehead, caressing her through the damp material. Finally, reluctantly, he lowered the cloth from her face, folded it over once again, and dabbed at her uniform where it had been soiled when she was sick earlier, when he'd picked her up the first time, in her ready room.

As the spot faded, she looked pleadingly up at him. "Chakotay, could you give me a minute?"

He hesitated, knowing that his earlier concerns about leaving her alone were, if anything, even more valid now. However, he recognized her need for privacy, and hoped that once alone, her thoughts would veer from their dangerous path. "Sure, call if you need me. I'll be right outside." He prayed that she would be okay, but braced for the worst.

Sitting outside her bathroom, he heard the sounds of her activities: the tinkle of her relieving herself, the flush of her toilet, the water running in the sink, the thump of a body falling to the floor...

Quietly, he cursed, then rushed in to find her sprawled awkwardly, already attempting to get up.

Silently, she allowed him to assist her, and he felt cold ice permeate his chest as she didn't protest at all this time he picked her up. Instead, she laid her head on his shoulder and relaxed into his embrace.

_I shouldn't be allowing this; he should be working on taking over my duties. In fact, I should probably transfer my command codes to him right now. But I'm so tired, and he's so strong..._

Chakotay noticed her eyelids drooping and realized she was finally nodding off. _Good. Now she won't get a chance to protest my staying with her here, in her quarters. Plus, I'm sure she needs the rest, and she'll probably be much better off when she wakes up..._

_Ugh...which means, if she's herself then, that she'll be angry with me for imposing upon her._ He briefly toyed with the idea of leaving her here and sneaking out, but decided she needed supervision more now than ever. _She'll probably throw me in the brig later, but at least that'll mean she's comfortable with being in command._

Once again, he gently placed her on the bed, this time tucking her in, as she was asleep before he even put her down. After she was settled, he returned to her bathroom to clean himself up, then proceeded to gather a few items and sit vigil by her bedside.


	6. Chapter 6

For disclaimers and Author's Notes, see Chapter 1. Enjoy. :)

* * *

_"Captain…"_

_Kathryn turned around, away from her ready room doors, to look at the only other person on the bridge. A young crewman…_

_"Jazzmyn Davies?"_

_"So you know me, Captain?" The woman's voice was merely a whisper from the shadows, the only illumination that of the pulsing red lights overhead._

_"Of course I know you, Crewman." Kathryn tried to keep her voice steady, feeling vulnerable as she kept her stance firm, squaring her shoulders slightly and keeping her arms by her sides. She took strength from the uniform she wore: she had always felt far better in uniform. Unless she was sleeping. Somehow she always managed to wake up with cramps and aches if she went to sleep in her uniform. "I make it a point to know whatever I can about all my crew."_

_"By that reasoning, _Captain_," Davies spat the word out with disdain, "you shouldn't know me at all. I'm not a member of your crew anymore."_

_"Oh?"_

_"I'm _dead_."_

_The words rang out across the silent bridge, echoing off the dark consoles, which were as lifeless as the woman in front on Kathryn should have been._

_"You. Let. Me. DIE." Davies ran at Janeway, screeching at her as her bloody and peeling hands went to either side of her former CO's face._

_"LOOK AT WHAT YOU DID TO ME, CAPTAIN!" Kathryn's eyes found it impossible to tear themselves away from the young woman's face as the horror in front of her was exposed in the glare of the red alert. The woman's eyes were white, blank and glazed with clouded irises as the early stages of decomposition set in across her body. The woman's hair was matted with the viscid excretions of human decomposition. Her mottled, graying skin was split, ruptured blood vessels across her face, neck and hands oozing dark brown liquid. Her lips were partially gone, rotted away to reveal her teeth. The dead woman's breath flew into her face and Kathryn gagged as the smell of the decaying corpse pervaded her nose. "LOOK AT WHAT YOU'VE CONDEMNED EVERY ONE OF YOUR 'CREW' TO! EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM WILL DIE OUT HERE BECAUSE OF THE MISTAKES _YOU'VE_MADE! BECAUSE OF THE DECISION YOU MADE THREE YEARS AGO! THEY WILL _ALL_ DIE! AND IT WILL _ALL_ BE YOUR FAULT!"_

_Kathryn's stomach lurched, her senses assaulted and overpowered by the proximity of Davies' body. She couldn't escape her, the sight of her lifeless face twisted with hate and disgust, the sound of her screaming, the feel of her disintegrating and clammy fingers against her cheeks, the potent stench of putrefaction in her airways, the inescapable taste of the woman's breath on her tongue-_

* * *

Kathryn heaved, only vaguely aware of someone's hands on her back as she was bent over, ejecting bitterly corrosive bile from her system.

"Let it all out, Kathryn. It's okay." Tears sprang to her eyes as she recognized the voice of the person to whom the comforting hands belonged: Chakotay.

She vomited again, her fatigued muscles clenching and convulsing as her entire body shuddered with the force of her spasms.

It took almost two minutes for the heaves to subside, and Kathryn was left with cold tremors running the length of her spine as the tears fell freely down her face.

"Cha-" Her voice escaped weakly from her sore throat, worn from the stomach acid.

He pulled her against him, enveloping her with strong arms and letting her fall back against his solid chest. "I'm here, Kathryn. It's okay. I'm here."

She wept openly, the sensation of the dream still fresh in her mind. When she forced her eyes to open, she was greeted by the sight of his right bicep. Kathryn's shoulder was pressed against his sternum as she shivered against him, his hands rubbing up and down her arm and across her back, trying to infuse her with warmth and comfort.

"It was her…" Kathryn choked out between violent sobs. "Chakotay… it was her… it's all my fault… every single one of them… will die… and… it's all… _my_…fault…"

Tears stung his own eyes as he pressed his left cheek to the top of her head, holding her close to offer strength for both of them. "It was _not_ your fault, Kathryn. None of this is your fault."

"I'm so… sorry…" Chakotay lifted his left hand to stroke her hair, rocking her back and forth to calm her. He knew that what was plaguing her was most likely the same thing that had caused her to cry in the turbolift, and to try to resign. But he also knew that her judgement was currently influenced by her physical condition: she wasn't thinking clearly right now.

"You have _nothing_ to apologize for, Kathryn. Nothing."

_Oh but I do, Chakotay… how can you even stand to be around me given the way I've acted with you over the past few years? The way in which I've disregarded your advice, your friendship, your-_

"I promise you that, Kathryn. Can you understand that?" He didn't need an answer and didn't wait for one. "None of this was your fault. What you did was right. It was in the best interest of your crew-" She sobbed even louder at his words and he ran his hand over her bare back, exposed by the thin straps of the nightgown. "Believe me, you have nothing to apologize for, Kathryn. Nothing at all."

She stayed in his arms, taking solace from the strength of his embrace around her shoulders and allowing him to sway her back and forth gently as he held her. _Thank you, Chakotay. Thank you for staying with me through all of this. Thank you for standing by me. You always do, and I might not always notice, but that doesn't mean I'm not grateful._

The sound of Kathryn's crying faded slightly and she leaned back in his embrace, looking up into his shadowed face, half illuminated by the stars as they streaked past the viewport above her bed. She looked up into his compassionate eyes and parted her lips to whisper the three words that she had so often needed to say to him, but had not, for one reason or another:


	7. Chapter 7

For disclaimers and Author's Notes, see Chapter 1. Enjoy. :)

* * *

"Thank you, Chakotay."

Chakotay smiled slightly in reaction to her words. A sign of gratitude was almost as good as a declaration of love. Almost.

She settled back into his embrace, inhaling his familiar scent, only now getting her bearings. She was still in her quarters, but the chronometer on the wall indicated she had been asleep for only four hours: it was only just past midnight. _No wonder I still feel tired. That isn't enough to catch up with the amount of sleep I've missed over the past four days… no, make that __five days._

Chakotay had obviously had time to clean up, as he had changed into some baggy sweatpants and a loose T-shirt, which felt soft against her skin. He had also taken the time to replicate another bucket, for which she was grateful, as that was where she had just deposited the latest batch of sick.

He eased back from her, in the hope that she would be all right for a few moments without his company. She met his gaze and a silent agreement came between them: he would be back soon.

He slid away from her, and she instantly felt the change in temperature as the skin of her upper body was exposed to the cooler air of her bedroom. She watched, slightly dazed, as Chakotay stood and bent over to pick up the bucket, then carried it through to the living area to recycle it.

Kathryn continued to shiver in his absence, cold setting in more fiercely as the dopamine left her system. She felt the sheen of perspiration coating every inch of her skin: the beads of sweat on her face that clung to her hairline and made her bangs stick to her forehead had been mistaken for Jazzmyn Davies' dead hands in her half-aware state.

But she had fallen asleep in her uniform, hasn't she? The cool air brushed across her now-bare shoulders. She was wearing a nightgown, but had no memory of how she had changed. _Did Chakotay change me while I was asleep?_ An embarrassed blush came over her face as she racked her exhausted brain for any other possible explanation, but her mind, too tired to form any coherent thought, came up blank.

She heard Chakotay return as her head dipped in time to her eyelids. Her arms were unable to keep her body upright, and her sweaty palm slipped, causing her to begin to fall backwards onto the covers behind her. He caught her before she fell too far and her head began to spin again as he held her still. As he pressed a hypospray against her neck, the minor throbbing in in her scalp dulled again. He had also brought a new, clean bucket with him.

Carefully, Chakotay eased her back against the pillows and covered her with the sheets. They stayed in silence as he placed the new bucket where the previous one had been next to her bed, then walked around to the other side of the mattress and crawled in beside her, pulling her trembling frame against his once more. He was heartened when Kathryn turned to him and pressed her face into his right pectoral, sighing deeply.

Chakotay knew it wouldn't be long before the Doctor had treated all his patients in Sickbay; he had called while Kathryn was asleep to inquire about the status of Sickbay and update the EMH on the captain's condition. They had agreed that sleep was probably the best thing for her at that moment. She rarely got enough of it, and the Doctor was confident that the commander could take care of the captain in her current state, though he had made Chakotay promise to call for assistance if required.

Kathryn shuddered against Chakotay's chest, and he pulled the sheets over the two of them further, trapping as much body heat as he could. This cold sweat was the second she had endured tonight, the first being soon after she fell asleep, when she had muttered incoherently, coated in sweat as her body struggled against the aftermath of the dopamine enhancement. He had wiped the perspiration from her face and soothed her as best he could without waking her. She needed rest.

The Doctor would most likely call again in a few hours to check on the two of them. She was one of the few crewmembers he had yet to see, and given his previous error with the diagnosis of her symptoms, Chakotay could understand why the hologram was so anxious to assess her condition.

"Did you undress me?" she mumbled sleepily, remembering the question she had mean to ask him earlier as he brushed a lock of hair away from her face.

"Only when you couldn't manage to do it yourself. You were half asleep and struggling with the clasp on your turtle neck so I gave you a helping hand, but I promise I didn't look." If Kathryn hadn't been so drained she would have smiled, but she merely hummed in approval of his answer.

Her eyes drifted shut and fatigue washed over her. She wanted to succumb to it, but an icy fear clasped around her heart and she fought exhaustion. She didn't want to fall victim to another nightmare and wake up with bile in her throat again.

Chakotay felt her shift against him, almost as if she were trying to remain uncomfortable. _She wants to stay awake._

"Kathryn, it's okay: whatever you dreamed of can't hurt you."

"You don't know that, Chakotay," she murmured, her concern evident in her voice despite the fact that she was slurring her words slightly in her drowsy state.

"Yes, I do." He placed the side of his right forefinger under her chin and raised it until she met his gaze. "I won't let it."

Another tear ran down her cheek and she turned her face into his chest.

"Sleep, Kathryn. I'll still be here beside you when you wake."

He felt her breathing even out as she calmed again, her hand resting on his hip under the covers, fingers twitching intermittently as she fell into a deep sleep, free from nightmares in Chakotay's presence.


	8. Chapter 8

For disclaimers and Author's Notes, see Chapter 1. Enjoy. :)

* * *

Some five hours later, Chakotay was alerted to the chirp of his comm badge.

"Sickbay to Commander Chakotay."

Chakotay carefully reached over Kathryn for his communicator pin, which was on the nightstand, and tapped it to open the comm link. "I'm here, Doctor."

Indeed, Chakotay had been there constantly since escorting the captain from her ready room, except for a brief excursion to his own quarters to change out of his soiled uniform and into something more comfortable. The Doctor had been rather astonished, however, when a few hours ago it had been the commander rather than the captain who had answered his hail.

* * *

_Sounding rather flustered, the Doctor stammered, "Commander, correct me if I am out of line, but what business could you possibly have in the captain's quarters at this time of night?" Upon hearing the tone of voice through the communicator, Chakotay imagined the medic's holographic eyebrows vanishing into his fully-receded hairline._

_"I'm looking after a friend," he replied without elaborating._

_"Hmm," the Doctor answered, obviously unsatisfied. "And why, exactly, does the captain need to be 'looked after'?" he asked._

_Chakotay coughed, attempting to conjure an answer that would be sufficient to mollify the EMH, but not so revealing as to invade the captain's privacy...or compromise her authority. "The dopamine has hit her rather hard," he replied honestly, "and she needed some assistance, which, knowing you were occupied with all your other patients, I was happy to provide."_

_"I see," the Doctor replied. "Can you give me a brief account of her symptoms, so that I can_ medically_ assess whether you are capable of providing the...assistance she requires?"_

_Indignant but understanding, Chakotay replied as simply as possible, leaving out the most distressing psychological aspect of her affliction, choosing to focus upon her physical symptoms. "She's been nauseated and anxious, and has a terrible headache. She's also been shivering from chills. Elevated heart rate. All typical reactions to the hormone as I'm sure you are well aware."_

_The dig was not lost on the Doctor, who had failed to consider hormonal imbalance as a cause of her symptoms earlier. "Indeed. I take it she has been vomiting, and that is why she required your assistance?"_

_"Yes," Chakotay reluctantly admitted. "She wore herself out. I urged her to come see you for a remedy, but she insisted upon waiting for everyone else to be treated first."_

_"Typical," the hologram muttered. "I advise you to administer an antacid to settle her stomach and an analgesic for the headache. Both should be available through the ship's replicators, but I will send a prescription so that you don't need to use your rations. That should suffice until the captain is willing to come see me in person. In the meantime, make sure she stays hydrated, as much as possible, and just...make her comfortable. If she passes out, make sure she lies on her side to prevent asphyxiation. As the dopamine wears off, her condition should improve. I will contact you later to check on her, and in the meantime, I want you to contact me immediately if her condition deteriorates."_

_"Yes, Doctor," agreed the commander, breathing a sigh of relief as the comm link was terminated._

* * *

The Doctor's tones, much calmer this time, pulled him out of his reverie.

"How is she?"

He looked down at the woman next to him, and was struck by how much younger she looked in her slumber, unhampered by the stresses that plagued her during her waking hours. Sleeping, she was unhindered by the burden of command, a burden that she insisted on carrying with as little help as possible, despite the fact that he had promised to be there for her whenever she needed him to be and to make the load she shouldered more bearable. He strove to help her in any way that he could on a day-to-day basis, be that taking her a cup of coffee or standing by her as she made a difficult decision.

Chakotay cleared his throat before answering the Doctor's question, not entirely trusting his voice. "She's sleeping again."

"I see. How is her condition?"

"About the same, although I'm glad to report that the tremors have lessened over the past few hours."

"And the nausea and vomiting?"

"I think it's better: the last episode was around midnight, and she's slept relatively peacefully since then."

"How unlike her," quipped the EMH, and Chakotay clenched his jaw. Kathryn's lack of rest was well known to both of them. "How about her heart rate?"

"Almost back to normal."

"In which case, as much as I would like to be able to come up to Deck Three and check on her myself, I shall leave her in your capable hands. Ensign Tabor has suffered a relapse and I must stay in Sickbay to monitor him. Lieutenant Paris and Ensign Kim have been ordered to their quarters, and Seven of Nine is regenerating."

Chakotay half-smiled as he recalled Kathryn using that same phrase with him not too long ago on the bridge, his charge then being the much less interesting - but certainly much less difficult - pulsars. "Yes, Doctor."

"But I want to be informed of her condition regularly and to see her immediately when she wakes up again. Though, if she's willing and able, she should eat first."

"Understood. Chakotay out."

He heard the crackle as the comm link was cut and replaced the badge on the nightstand. Chakotay's gaze found the contentedly-sleeping form of Kathryn Janeway again, and he reached out to brush a strand of hair off her cheek and behind her ear. She hummed in response, and Chakotay's heart warmed as she smiled up at him in her sleep.

_Someday_, he told himself as he lowered his head onto the pillow next to hers, watching her face relax again as she fell into a deeper sleep. _Someday, Kathryn…_

* * *

It was warm under the blankets, warmer than usual, but Kathryn didn't mind. Why should she? She hated the cold. Being warm had always been preferable.

But this was also comfortable. Kathryn struggled to remember the last time she had felt this contented. At ease. _I don't think I've ever felt safer…_

She turned towards the warmth and snuggled closer, seeking more comfort and sighing happily when it wrapped itself around her shoulders. But her sigh brought something with it, a scent that was slightly musky. _Like sawdust, but more muted… subtle. _Kathryn raised her hand to rub the sleep from the corners of her eyes and stared drowsily at the blurry shape in front of her.

Suddenly she felt a wave of panic as she noted the bitter taste in her mouth, and images from the night came flooding back to her. She remembered Chakotay climbing into the bed, holding her as she shook with chills, urging her to fall asleep...and promising to be there beside her when she woke! She supposed she hadn't really believed him, and tears pricked at the back of her eyelids as she was suddenly overwhelmed with gratitude at his touching care. But just behind that wave of reassurance came another...of shame and worry. She remembered, too, attempting to resign as captain, and his refusal to accept her resignation, and wondered where they stood on that matter, but for now, all she wanted to do was to relax into his embrace...

Kathryn took a moment to gather her thoughts, trying to decide on the best course of action. She blinked twice as Chakotay's kind face came into focus.

"Good morning, Kathryn." His voice was calm and even, despite the fact that he was in her bed, with his arm resting gently on her shoulders.

Kathryn was still too stunned to speak. Not trusting her voice completely, she decided to stay silent as he regarded her carefully. About a minute passed before Kathryn decided that she could make a noise without making too much of a fool of herself. However, the noise she made was not one she had been expecting.

"Mm." She hummed quickly while at the same time thinking:_ it could have been worse… you could have had a hand on his thigh_- she glanced down and pulled her hand away from where it had still been resting on his hip. _Dammit, woman! _She felt a deep blush color her cheeks as the rest of her memories of the past day returned. _Oh...God..._ she nearly groaned aloud as the details reasserted themselves into her memory. How kind and careful he had been with her: gentle and tender, despite her condition. Despite her protests. She wanted to sink even further under the covers, hiding from him as if to erase the memories of the night before.

Chakotay, seemingly un-phased by or unaware of her embarrassment, pressed on.

"How are you feeling?"

This one she would have to form words in order to answer, and she swallowed harshly, praying that her voice would work properly.

"I've been worse," she husked, scrunching her face up as her throat protested against further speech. It was still dry and raw from the day before.

"Can I get you anything?" Chakotay watched various emotions flit across her face. Annoyance, confusion and embarrassment were among those that stayed on her features barely long enough for him to recognize them, but in the end, discomfort won out.

Kathryn nodded, lifting a hand and bending her fingers and thumb as if to grip something. She then raised the hand further, bringing it to her mouth, with her palm facing inwards and her curled fingers almost touching the small bridge of her nose. Chakotay nodded in understanding. _She's thirsty._

"I'll get you something to drink." Chakotay pulled the covers aside and climbed out of bed, careful not to let too much of the heat out, and padded barefoot into the living space next door.

Kathryn slowly pulled herself up, leaning against the pillows at her back as she heard him get a glass of water from the replicator. How am I going to be able to look him in the eye knowing what he's done for me, without my even asking him?

While she was acutely embarrassed by her own behavior towards him, she was also quite touched that he cared for her enough to look after her. Surely he was doing it out of duty to the ship - after all, a happy captain would be a lot easier to deal with. _But I offered to resign, to make him captain...and if he'd accepted, my well-being wouldn't matter so much to the crew._ She shifted uncomfortably against the covers, hoping that half of what had happened yesterday was some type of dream induced by the residual dopamine in her system, while at the same time knowing that it had been completely true, right down to Chakotay's soothing whispers as she had fallen asleep.

When he came back in, she had settled herself again quite comfortably, and he handed her the glass. Chakotay then sat on the edge, watching her as she took a sip of water and closed her eyes, swallowing, the initial sting abating as the cool liquid slid down her throat.

"Thanks, I needed that." Kathryn took another slow gulp before setting the glass on the bedside table and sitting up a little straighter.

"I'm sure you did," he grinned, flashing his dimples, and Kathryn couldn't help but smile back at him. "The Doc called while you were asleep, and said that you're to report to Sickbay as soon as you've had something to eat."

As if on cue, Kathryn's stomach growled at the mention of food. "Be quiet, you!" she admonished as she glared at her midriff in mock irritation, trying to ease her nerves a little.

Chakotay grinned again- _this is more like the Kathryn I know._

"Apparently food sounds good." She resisted the urge to wrinkle her nose. _But I really need to brush my teeth first! Ugh, I wonder if he can smell my breath?_

"I'll see if I can fix you something while you get ready in here, okay?"

Kathryn nodded in reply and Chakotay left her bedroom without so much as a backward glance.

His footsteps quietened slightly as he walked over to the replicator again and punched in a code. Suddenly, Kathryn was overcome with a sense of nervousness. _What does he think of me for the way I've acted?_

She knew that over the past twenty-four hours, Chakotay had seen far more of her, both physically and emotionally, than he was accustomed to. _He didn't even see that much of me when we were both living on New Earth, for goodness sake! How will he ever respect me as his CO again after this?_

_Oh God...I wonder if he's still considering my resignation._

Kathryn took a deep breath, resolving at once to solve one problem at at time, tabling that one until she'd taken care of some of her bodily needs in order to feel slightly more human again. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and clenched her jaw as she stood on weak legs and walked over towards the bathroom, too caught up in thought to care about her feeble knees…


End file.
